Purest of Souls
by Jagger 6280
Summary: Imogen James and her sister Bryony come home from Illvermorny for the holidays to find that their guardians have been hiding their past from them. In a matter of days they move from one life to another and while Bryony might find the whole thing more magical than a bag of farting leprechauns, Imogen will have to find a way to get past it before she comes to regret it.


**Everything belongs to J. except OC's and most of the plot. Prompt from Dragon Queen Niji from her Daily Prompts Dump. If you're interested go check them out.**

The room where the girls were supposed to sleep was fairly small considering there were four of us. The beds created a sort of zig zag walkway from the door to the window, which had remained stuck fast since our arrival. The ceiling was a surprising off white that contrasted nicely with the rest of the house's colour scheme which consisted of black, grey and very dark green. I had been staring at it for so long I could make out slightly darkened swirling patterns in the paint and my eyes had begun to ache. I didn't want to close my eyes. That would be giving in, and if there was even the smallest smidge of hope that I could return home by the end of the holidays, then I would do whatever it took.

"Im, Mrs Weasley says dinner's ready," Bryony called through the door. I didn't move and I didn't say anything and after a moment I could hear her walk away. Bryony had adjusted to Grimmauld place almost immediately, but it was alright for her, the universe had been giving her helpful hints to the future since she was little. But Bryony had known, for months in advance what was going to happen; she always seemed to, though she rarely said anything. What did had the universe ever give me, though, but trouble?

Someone knocked on the door and broke the silence I had just begun to enjoy. It was hard to enjoy anything in an overcrowded stuffy room without even the smallest movements of air. "Imogen," Remus called. Great, Bryony had sent in the parent patrol. I didn't say anything and though it was against the plan, I closed my eyes. It wasn't like I could fall asleep anyway with the books I had shoved under the covers. "Imogen, are you awake?" he asked. I kept silent and still and made myself breathe in slow even breaths. There was a rattling at the door and a long excruciatingly long squeak while he slowly opened it. Ugh. I couldn't see but I knew he was just standing in the doorway. I could feel his eyes on my back. Slow even breaths, I reminded myself. Whether Remus admitted it or not, he had heightened hearing and sense of smell; at least compared to Sirius. Then he began to walk through the maze our beds and trunks had created. Mine was the closest to the window and I felt a savage surge of pleasure when I heard him kick his foot against a trunk. Compared to Sirius he was incredibly quiet, but just to add a bit of realism, I 'stirred' slightly before going back to 'sleep'.

When he reached my bed, he sat on the edge and had the audacity to stroke the back of my head like a child. Didn't he understand that I hated him and Sirius for dragging me here? That I had had a good life going for me back home and they thought it was fine and dandy o ignore my opinion after they ignored it. I was the perfect shoe in for quidditch captain for the Wampus team for my final year. I had just gotten into Illvermorny's quidditch team as the third chaser after three years on reserve. I had come eight in the schools duelling contest. And I had to give it all up because of some stupid was that hadn't even started yet and some bloke I hadn't ever heard of before because despite the evidence otherwise, he was my brother. And Remus thought he could act like my father? I wanted to turn away, punch him in the stomach. Punch him in the face. Sirius too.

"I know you're awake Imogen." He said suddenly, though he didn't stop.

"Then go away," I said. My throat constricted painfully and for a moment I couldn't remember how to breathe. I could feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes, threatening to spill and give me away. Don't you dare cry, I told myself, don't you bloody dare.

"Mrs Weasley's made spaghetti and meatballs," Remus said as if that was supposed to tempt me. He had been apart from us for so long he had forgotten that that was bryony's favourite. "Skipping meals won't make us change our minds," he said when I said nothing. I couldn't say anything, not without breaking out into uncontrollable sobs. So I turned my back on him more squarely and glared at the dark frayed curtains. Go away, go away, go away. I hate you, go away. Remus stayed for a short while, dragging out an awful angry silence on my part and the disappointment from him. I wanted to tell him I had done nothing wrong, nothing to deserve it, that it was all on him and Sirius. But I couldn't talk, not without losing my resolve in an argument, I knew I wouldn't win.

Then finally he sighed deeply and left, leaving the door ajar. Silently, I cried.

It was dark when I woke and my stomach felt as if it was on the verge of devouring itself. I hadn't eaten dinner or breakfast yesterday and only a sandwich for lunch. In addition, my body ached from sleeping on the books and my eyes hurt from crying. I felt so much worse than I had before. I stayed where I was for a moment, just listening. The other girls were all fast asleep, which meant it was later than I thought. I had spent enough long nights lying awake in the bed to know the Granger girl often went to sleep just after midnight. Bryony and the Weasley however usually fell asleep just after half an hour of Mrs Weasley's lights out.

Someone had placed a heavy woollen blanket over me while I slept. I hoped it was bryony and not my guardians. The time for parenting had passed a good three weeks ago when the sprung the move and the secrets on us. I let the blanket fall to the ground while I got up and stretched. I knew where Mrs Weasley kept the leftovers and lately, it seemed she was preparing food especially for me to take. The other day I had found a tuna sandwich and the day before a small plate of risotto. Standing up, I grabbed my wand and carefully made my way to the door. I couldn't help thinking I should go back to bed, back to sleep. With each step, I took the insistence got stronger, but I kept going and soon I was standing in the hallway the door shut behind me.

"Lumos," I muttered, pointing my wand towards the ground; the tip of my wand lit up and the sudden brightness blinded me for a few seconds. I blinked a few times, seeing more and more as my eyes adjusted until my wand didn't seem so bright: each creak of the floorboards seemed as loud as nails on a chalkboard in the dark. Though I had snuck down to the kitchens at all times of the night in the past two weeks, I hadn't found a route that avoided all the creaky floorboards, there were just so many. The fear of being caught by Sirius or Remus hadn't disappeared and I tensed at every small bump in the night. I had no slippers, no escape plan if they appeared at the end of the corridor. I couldn't slip into any nearby rooms to hide because only Merlin knew what was lurking in there.

I hated going down the stairs the most. I hated the way the elf heads watched and how they looked in the shadows. When we had first arrived I had thought how easy it must've been for Sirius to run away from this place, but now I wondered why he made me stay. He hated it, I hated it, Bryony and Remus probably hated it too. It was a relief to get off the staircase, though some would consider the ground level worse.

The entrance was spacious but a cobwebbed chandelier decorated with silver snakes hung above you and from the walls, the snake brackets seemed to glare at you from the grim light they offered. The hallway was cramped, there was no choice but to walk single file and as long as you wanted to remain upright you had to walk to the left to avoid cabinets, bookshelves and the troll leg umbrella stand. All the decorations were stupid.

At the far end of the hall, was the door to the dining room; a large room with a large table and a large fireplace. It was the only way to the kitchen was through that room and though the door was shut, light leaked out through the crack. Another bloody meeting.

"Oi, what are you doing here?" a voice whispered from somewhere in front of me. Before I could react much more than dropping my wand, leaving me and the whatever shrouded in near darkness.

"Shh," it's just us another voice said. I thought it was another voice; they sounded the same though the second sounded closer. "It's only us," the voice said and before I could scream the door to my left opened and I was dragged in.

The voices mumble something unintelligible, an incantation maybe? I nearly hoped. A light bloomed from somewhere to my left and then another to my right. A moment later a faced a pair of boys on either side; they were identical down to the last freckle. I knew because I had observed them before while cleaning and because If Bryony was talking about Harry freaking Potter, then she mooning over the Weasley brothers.

"You're not Bryony," the one on the right said dumbly. It wasn't a hard mistake to make in the dark. Most days I did look like her; we had the same build and I usually wore my hair short and red though hers was longer, down to her shoulders. I was only a little taller and though it was hard to see in the dim lighting, we also had similar freckles. Something that had been a courtesy on my part had somehow become a permanent aspect of what I associated with me.

"No," I agreed and covered a yawn. It was a quarter past one according to the clock in the far corner of the room, but I could be wrong. The light of their wands didn't quite reach that far and I was glad. I didn't want to see what horror lurked behind the front curtains, though I could imagine. They made small twittering sounds and rustled the curtains far too often for the horrible drafts in the house.

"Imogen, right?" The one on the left asked.

"Bryony's told us a lot about you," the other said like he thought Bryony was completely delusional about whatever she had said. The way he said it nearly hurt, I hadn't considered how these other people would perceive me, and maybe if I wasn't so tired or apathetic I might have had a good long think about what I was doing.

"So, what _are_ you doing down here?" the one of the left asked when I didn't say anything. I was beginning to wish I had remembered their names. Bill and George? Fred and Charlie? The other way round? I knew the girl was Ginny, the youngest boy was Ron and their friend's name began with H.

"I was getting something to eat, "I said, no point in lying. They seemed the type to sneak food in the middle of the night.

"You know where Mum keeps the food?" the right one asked incredulously after a brief pause. I shrugged; it seemed fairly obvious that she should keep it in the pantry.

"It doesn't look like we'll be getting anything tonight," the left one added.

"Yeah, the Order meeting must be really important tonight for it to run so late," the other one said. I was starting to get a little dizzy looking turning my head to each side.

"Fred'll walk you back to your room and I'll follow a little later, wouldn't do to be caught now because we all trooped up like a herd or hippogriffs," the one the left said.

"Yeah, you look like you'll fall asleep on the bannister if someone doesn't keep you awake," Fred joked though it had a slightly forced quality to it.

"Makes, sense. Thanks," I said though I didn't really mean it. I would've been fine walking back by myself and I was getting the feeling Fred thought less of me than I did him. "Just let me find my wand. I dropped it in the hallway." When you two spoke from nowhere, I added in my head. It was too late to start picking fights. The two weren't sorry at all and chuckled lowly. Not-friend did offer a half-hearted shrug as if to say 'we didn't mean for that to happen'.

My wand was easy to find and aside from some gentle ribbing from Fred about dropping my wand in a situation where I might've needed it, it was quiet. The elf heads still glared from the shadows and the floorboards still creaked underfoot but it didn't seem so sinister or so loud with company. Even if it was company I couldn't wait to be rid of.

It wasn't until I was back on my bed, with a sore, kicked toe, that I realised not-friend had kept a hand behind his back the entire time. I wondered what he could possibly be hiding while I shoved the books from my bed and onto the blanket on the floor and by the time I had begun to drift off to sleep I realised it didn't really matter what he was hiding. They weren't my friends and if I was even the least bit incredibly, unbelievably lucky, I would be back home at Illvermorny at the end of the holidays and this would be nothing but a bad memory.

 **A/N:** **Apologies for any mistakes, if you could give me a PM and let me know that'd be great. This story is currently unbeta'd so if you're interested you're welcome to the job.**


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